


16. Accountability - The Conover Saga

by Denise_Felt



Series: The Conover Saga [16]
Category: Gerry Anderson's UFO
Genre: F/M, mentions mass death (no details)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise_Felt/pseuds/Denise_Felt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When past decisions rise up to confront Cmdr. Straker, he questions his ability to command.</p>
            </blockquote>





	16. Accountability - The Conover Saga

## 16\. Accountability

  
by Denise Felt 2001

**ACT I**

****"Hey, Mr. Straker!"

Straker turned and smiled at the young man coming toward him. "Hello, Max. I haven't seen you around for a while. Been busy?"

"Oh, yeah," Max said. "There's been a lot of activity in a few of the hotspots lately. We've been monitoring some major action these past few weeks."

Straker nodded, hiding a grimace. The UFO hotspots worldwide had been keeping the Sky jets hopping recently. They had destroyed all of the ships that they'd tracked, so he felt cautiously hopeful that nothing else was going on. But they'd dealt with red herrings from the Thoelians before, so he held onto his caution. "Well, you've been missed on the set. Buck told me that nothing runs as smoothly when you're not here."

"Yeah?" Max seemed ridiculously pleased at the small praise, and Straker was reminded how young he really was. He had such a brilliant head on those thin shoulders that it was easy to forget that he was barely twenty.

"Yes. In fact, I thought perhaps you might like to be his assistant. What do you think?"

"Assistant? Wow! Really? What would I do?"

Straker couldn't help smiling at his enthusiasm. "Pretty much what you're doing now, Max. Only you'd get paid more for it and have the chance to sit in on the big meetings with Buck and the director."

"No way!"

"Think about it, Max," Straker said. "Let me know sometime this week, all right?"

"Sure, Mr. Straker! I can tell you my answer now, if you want."

"Well, you really should consider it first, Max. It will mean longer hours, for one thing, and you may not be ready to give up your time at the C.A.A.R. database."

"Oh." Max frowned, thinking hard as they walked toward Lot 7. Finally he sighed and looked at the man he would have done anything for. "The thing is, Mr. Straker, that something has come up at the database that's kinda interesting, and I wanted the chance to monitor it for a bit. It shouldn't take very long before I know something one way or the other, but these next few weeks may not be a good time to start working longer hours at the studio."

"I understand, Max," Straker said. "And it'll keep. What is going on? Anything you can talk about?"

"Well, it's a pretty big deal. If I'm right," Max told him. "But I don't have enough info yet to come to any conclusions. It's just a hunch so far."

"Well, I hope you'll tell me all about it when you pin it down, Max."

"Oh sure, Mr. Straker! You'll be the first person I tell!"

"Good." As they passed Rupert Square, the commander thought of something. "What will you be doing for Christmas, Max?"

"Not a lot," he answered with a shrug. "The pub down the road from me does a pretty good meal. I usually go there."

Straker said, "Why don't you come to our house for Christmas dinner this year? Sheila would love to see you, and you know there'll be more than enough food."

Max grinned. He did know that the Strakers' table was always overflowing with good food. And good friends, as well. "Thanks, Mr. Straker. I'd love to come."

"Good. That's settled then." They rounded the corner and came onto the lot. John was talking to Buck and waved as he caught sight of him.

Max frowned. "Who's that guy?"

Straker started to explain, but John came up just then and said, "Hey, Dad! Have you seen the script for the newest episode? It's really cool. Buck was just showing it to me."

"Yes, I've seen it. John, I'd like you to meet Max Fenig, a good friend of mine. Max, this is John, my son."

"Hi," Max said with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. He slanted a glance at Straker, then headed for the table where the rest of the team were going over the script.

John raised a brow. "Pleasant fellow."

Straker frowned. "I don't understand, John. He was fine a minute ago."

His son gave him a look. "Well, I understand it, Dad. He's jealous."

"Of what?" Straker asked incredulously.

"Of me," John answered. As his father shook his head, he went on. "Come on, Dad. He obviously thinks the sun rises and sets in you. I'm an intruder, a newcomer with closer ties than he has." He shrugged. "He'll get over it."

Straker looked from where Max had gone back to his son in concern. "I don't know what to say, John."

"Then don't say anything. I don't remember him from my world, but there were always guys hanging around, hoping for a little of your attention. I don't have a problem with it."

"Fine." Straker watched how his son's eyes lit up as Emily came onto the lot. He hoped that things would go well for the two of them. John had seen more than his share of marital strife in his life. He deserved some peace. "I'll see you later."

"Right," John said and went over to Emily with a smile.

* * *

"It's incredibly realistic."

Straker nodded. "Yes. Ayshea outdid herself drawing it. Sheila said that when she saw the finished sketch, it made her cry."

"It really looks like him then?" Alec asked.

"Down to that smile, don't you think?"

"He definitely had his mother's smile," Alec agreed. "It was a wonderful Christmas present, Ed. Sheila certainly knows how to come up with one-of-a-kind gifts for you, doesn't she?"

Straker smiled softly. "She says that I'm hard to buy for, because I never want anything."

"And she believes that?"

His friend's smile widened. "I told her that I'd take her gift-wrapped, but she only laughed at me."

Alec chuckled. He glanced back at the charcoal sketch for a moment, sobering as he met the eyes of the young boy in the sketch. "He was so young, Ed."

Straker sighed, setting down his coffee cup on the small table by his armchair. "I know. It's almost more than I can take to think of all he went through at such a tender age. Sometimes, I wonder how Sheila handles the thought of him."

His friend nodded, putting the framed sketch back on the desk and picking up his drink. "How does anyone handle losing a child, Ed?"

Straker met his eyes and swallowed hard as he remembered the funeral he had been asked not to attend. He had felt compelled to wander the studio all day, torturing himself by reliving every moment of that final visit with his son. Alec hadn't left his side at all. He had found it irritating to have him hovering about, but it had been oddly comforting too. But he'd never been able to speak about it. Not then, and not now. "There is no bearing it, Alec," he said softly.

It was the most he'd ever said about it, and Alec nodded, taking his seat on the other armchair. "That I can believe." The room was silent for several minutes, then he said, "How does it feel to have him back, Ed?"

"John?" Straker's serious face lightened somewhat. "It feels good, Alec. What do you think of him?"

His friend grinned. "Are you kidding? He's great! Just like you, in fact. Only more so."

Straker nodded wryly. "A little more of everything, Alec."

Alec chuckled into his drink. "Have you noticed how chipper the girls at HQ are with him around? I've never seen so many happy faces."

"Hmmm. Well, let's hope they don't fall into despair once he's gone."

"When does he leave for Skydiver?"

"Tomorrow. I delayed his departure for a bit. I wanted to have him here for the holidays."

He sounded almost guilty about it, so Alec raised his brows. "Perfectly understandable. He's a fine man, Ed. You should be proud of him."

"I am," Straker agreed. "It's just..."

"Go on," Alec prompted when he stopped.

His friend looked up at him. "I wish I'd been there to watch him grow up, Alec. To see him become the wonderful man that he is. To know that I had a hand in that."

"And what's wrong with that?"

Straker sighed. "It shouldn't even matter. I should just be grateful that he's alive. That he's here and a part of my life again."

Alec chuckled. "Ed, it's human nature to want it all. You haven't committed some great sin because you want something more than what you have. Believe me."

Straker relaxed into the armchair and sipped his coffee. "If you're sure."

His friend hid a smile as he took a drink of his bourbon. "Positive. Although I wonder now how Ned will grow up. Seeing John as a man has really made me nervous about how good a job I'll do with my son."

"You'll do fine, Alec. He'll grow up to be just like you."

"God forbid! Not if I can help it. Listen, Ed. Dee and I named him after you for a reason. I'd feel a lot happier if he grew up to be just like you."

Straker shook his head. "No. You don't want that. I'm no example for anyone, Alec. You would make a much better role model."

"His name's Edward, not Alexander," his friend said, as though that settled it.

Straker's eyes got a mischievous gleam in them as he said, "With that red hair of his, he'll more likely grow up to be like his mother."

Alec choked on a laugh. He said, "Now that wouldn't be so bad. She's such an incredible woman, Ed. And so tenderhearted. It amazes me sometimes, especially when I think of all that she's been through."

"I know. Sheila overwhelms me too on occasion. We got pretty lucky, didn't we, Alec?"

"Yeah." Alec saluted with his glass. "We hit the jackpot with our wives."

* * *

"Men are such fools!"

Sheila laughed. "What has he done this time, Dee?"

Her friend powdered her son's bottom and put on a new diaper. "You wouldn't believe it, Sheila! He told me yesterday that he doesn't want Ned to go to his senior prom. He's afraid he'll grow up to be a rake or something."

"Are you kidding? I wonder what he's referring to? None of my proms were that much fun."

"Mine either. It makes me wonder what went on at Alec's prom? But I know why he's suddenly so worried about it. It's because of John."

Sheila cocked her head to the side. "Because he's a flirt?"

Dee grimaced. "Partly. But mostly it's because he told Alec that he'd used him as his role model."

Sheila burst out laughing. "Oh! Poor Alec! Oh, Dee! Was he serious?"

"I don't know. But he's got Alec absolutely terrified."

They shared a grin at the thought. Dee put her son down on the carpet to crawl around, and he made a beeline for Sheila.

She picked him up and nuzzled his tummy, making him giggle. "Oh, you cutie! Don't you worry about a thing, Neddy. I'll make sure you go to your senior prom."

Dee laughed. "Promises, promises!" She let Kathy hand her the wooden spoon she'd been banging against the stewpot, then calmly handed it back to the toddler. Kathy squealed in delight and went back to making noise. "How are you doing with John at the house, Sheila?"

"Better than I thought we would, Dee. He's really very sweet, and he adores the kids. I couldn't ask for a better stepson."

"Does he call you Mom yet?"

Sheila made a small grimace. "No. And I don't think he ever will. And that's fine. I don't want to take anyone's place, Dee. If he thinks of me as a friend, then that's enough."

Dee sighed. "You mean Gay. Have you talked to her about it?"

"Oh, yeah. Before we left Moonbase. She was so embarrassed! It was almost funny. Like any of it was her fault! But we decided that the less he sees her, the better it will be for both of them. And he seems to agree with that."

"How did Michael take it?"

Sheila grinned. "He just laughed and said that the commander was welcome to any Gays he found in other dimensions. But he wasn't getting his Gay!"

Dee chuckled. "I can hear him saying it!" She snagged Ned as he crawled past and gave his chubby cheeks a kiss. As she returned him to the floor, she said, "And what about you? It doesn't bother you to think of him married to someone else in some alternate world?"

"Not really," her friend replied. "The situation is so different that it's hard to get uptight over. I mean, I'm not even sure I'm in that universe. So, I feel like Michael, I suppose. As long as she doesn't come after my Ed, I don't mind."

"You're calmer than I would be," Delores admitted. "If it had been Alec, I would have been furious!"

Sheila shook her head at her. "What good would that do, Dee? It's not as if we could change it. But I will tell you this. I'm very glad that my cousin is safely married. _And_ over her crush on Ed!"

* * *

"Got any new year's resolutions?"

Straker said, "Oh, several. There's a lot of things I'd like to see happen with SHADO this year."

Alec rolled his eyes. "I meant personal resolutions, Ed! You know, like resolving to be nicer or something."

His friend's brow rose. "I'm not nice?"

Alec snorted. "Sure. That's why you always win the Commander of the Year award."

Straker hid a grin and cast a mock-hurt look at his friend. "They give out one of those?"

Freeman guffawed. He started to say something, but just then John entered the study. He glanced up with a smile that withered at the look on the young man's face.

Straker rose from his chair, concerned at the fury in his son's eyes. "John? What is it?"

His son glared at him, visibly trying to rein in his anger so that he could speak. Finally he blurted out, "Is it true?"

Straker came toward the study doorway where John stood. "Is what true?"

"Did you let me die?"

His father gasped. "John...!"

"You did, didn't you? You sent that damned transport to Ireland because of a stupid alien instead of getting the medicine to the hospital on time. It's your fault I died!"

Straker met his furious gaze, unable to think of anything to say in his defense. "John, I..."

John's hand gestured, cutting off any reply he might have tried to make. "Forget it!" He gave his father a hard look. "I don't know you. And I don't want to know you." He slammed the study door as he left.

Stunned, Straker stared at the door for a long moment, then realized that Alec had heard all of it. Including the reference to the transport... He turned and saw his friend looking rather white, setting his empty glass on the endtable. "Alec..."

Freeman did not meet his eyes. "I should go, Ed. Dee's probably wondering when I'll be back. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alec, don't," he said, but it only came out in a whisper and he couldn't be sure that his friend heard him. Alec left the study and quietly closed the door, leaving Straker standing alone in the middle of the room.

He stood there a long time, listening to the echoing silence of the house around him.

**ACT II**

****"Wasn't the wedding wonderful? I just love winter weddings!" Dee sighed as they looked through the photographs.

Sheila grinned. "Yeah, I know. And spring ones and summer ones and..."

Dee stuck out her tongue at her. "So, I'm an incurable romantic! Sue me!"

Her friend chuckled. "Dee, you've got a heart as big as the whole outdoors. You and Alec are exactly alike in that."

Delores sighed gustily as she held up a photo. "It's too true. Look at them in this one."

Sheila took the proffered photo and obediently looked at it. Morita was radiant in her white velvet gown, leaning on the arm of a very proudly tuxedoed Keith Ford. She couldn't help but sigh as well. They just looked so pleased with themselves. "Did you cry?"

"Buckets!" Dee admitted. "Did you?"

"Oh, yeah. It was so sweet. And you should have heard Tobiah the whole time they were gone. It was Keith this and Keith that every day."

"It was so nice of you to keep him for them."

"Nice? Are you kidding? We'd have been insulted if he'd gone anywhere else. It was wonderful having him in the house. He's such a breath of fresh air, you know. And he besieged Ed with questions constantly about architecture and moats and turrets and everything under the sun."

Dee giggled. "Did it drive him crazy?"

"Oh, no. Ed ate it up. He encouraged him. Why, he even sat with him one evening and put together plans for a moat for our house. It was hilarious! And Tobiah thought we should have live gargoyles standing guard at the drawbridge, or at least some attack dogs."

Dee laughed. "Did Ed turn green?"

Sheila chuckled. "He managed to maintain his composure. I didn't dare mention to Tobiah that the guard dogs left when Ed moved in. I don't think he would have understood Ed's aversion..." She glanced up as Alec came into the house and swallowed the rest of her sentence. He looked sick.

Delores jumped up and went to him. "Baby! What is it?"

He met Sheila's eyes for a second, then turned to his wife. "It's nothing. I'll be all right." He gave her an absent kiss on her cheek, then went into the bookroom and closed the door. Dee exchanged a glance with Sheila.

But she was already getting to her feet. That short look from him had been enough to tell her that something was wrong at home. "I think I'd better go, Dee," she said, rounding up the children.

Dee looked worried as she helped her put them in the limo. "What do you think happened?" she asked, made almost afraid by her husband's uncharacteristic despair.

Sheila shook her head. "I don't know, Dee. Call me."

Dee stepped back away from the car. "I will. Bye!" After the limousine had disappeared down the street, she turned back to the house, knowing that she needed to talk to her husband, but certain that she wasn't going to like hearing what he had to say. Whatever had happened, it had been _bad_.

* * *

When Emily opened her door and saw him, she had to bite back a gasp. She quickly grabbed her coat and came outside, closing the front door behind her. "Let's go into the garden," she said, and led him around the side of the cottage to the back. She kept glancing surreptitiously at him as they went, unnerved by the pain in his face. It wasn't even the fact that his features looked carved in stone that bothered her so much. It was his eyes. They didn't seem to fit his face at all, but to inhabit a separate world of their own. And it was obviously not a good place to be.

They sat on the stone bench in silence for several minutes. Then he said in a voice very unlike his own, "I can't believe it. I just can't believe it, Emily."

She ran a hand down his arm, unsure how to comfort him. "What is it, John?" She asked softly.

He met her eyes for a moment, then looked away. "I almost don't want to tell you," he said.

"You need to talk to someone," she replied reasonably. "And I'll listen. You know that surely?"

He slid an arm around her waist and leaned his head on her shoulder with a sigh. "Yes. I know that. I'm not sure that I can get it out coherently though."

"That's okay. Start anywhere."

He gazed unseeingly at the twilit garden and tried to marshal his thoughts. "Dad had said that the John of this universe died after being hit by the car, because the medicine needed to save his life didn't reach him in time. And I got to wondering what had held it up, you know? What quirk of fate made it arrive on time in my universe?"

Emily frowned. "And what did you find out?"

He ran a hand over his face. "That Dad had diverted the transport carrying the medicine to Ireland because of some alien they wanted to capture alive. He chose a damned alien over his own son!"

"I don't believe it."

He looked at her, his eyes wounded. "I know. That's what I thought too. Dad? Do something like that? So, I went to him and asked him."

Emily drew a breath. "What did he say?"

John shook his head. "He didn't have to say anything. I knew it was the truth as soon as I saw his face. He let me die, Emily. His eight year old son was in the hospital dying, and he cared more about contacting some renegade alien. It's insane. How could anyone do such a thing to their own son?"

She rubbed his back, trying to comfort herself as much as him. It didn't make any sense. Ed would never... She asked quietly, "How long was the transport diverted for?"

"I don't know. An hour, maybe more. Why?" He looked at her. "Are you saying he should have done it?"

"No. But maybe he thought there would be enough time, John. Maybe that was the only option that allowed him any chance to help you."

He sat up, pulling his arm away from her. "I can't believe it. You're defending him!"

Emily met his eyes. "John, I'm not defending anyone. It was horrible that it happened at all. But nothing is ever as simple as it seems on the surface. Did you ask him why? Did you give him the chance to explain the situation to you?"

"I didn't need to!" he said, getting angry. "Do you honestly think I wanted to hear his excuses? My God, Emily!"

"Listen! You've got to understand, John. Command is a very hard thing. Sometimes, a man is asked to make choices, choices that will affect the lives of everyone under his command. It's not an easy thing, especially when someone he cares about is thrown in for good measure."

"You are defending him! Would you have made that choice, Emily? Would you?"

She gave him a serious look. "No. I couldn't have made that choice. And that's why men make better leaders than women do, John. Because they can. If it's necessary, they can be objective enough to keep a cool head about them."

But he was shaking his head. "How stupid of me! I should have known that you would take his side! He's a military leader, and they can do no wrong in your eyes, can they?"

"That's not fair, John. I'm not taking sides. I'm just trying to tell you that it couldn't have been an easy thing for him to do. And he's not the first leader who's been asked to make such a choice. You need to understand that the choice wasn't between you and some alien. It was probably much bigger than that: a choice between his son and the entire planet. And how would you choose, John, if that was the choice you had to make?"

"I'd choose my son!" He stood up and glared at her. "I shouldn't have come here. I should have known that you wouldn't understand!"

Emily sat where she was after he left. She cried a little, but her tears dried eventually. And in the calm afterward, she realized that she was faced with a choice of her own. She could take everything he had said to her to heart and let herself get angry at him in return. Or she could accept that he wasn't thinking very clearly right now and was far too hurt himself to care who else got hurt. She gave a deep sigh, pulling her coat closer around her to keep out the chill, and went inside.

* * *

When Sheila came in the front door, her husband came out of the study. He looked pale and beaten, but his eyes lit up as Kathy ran across the floor toward him, saying, "Daddy!" He scooped her up in his arms and held on tightly, fighting tears.

Sheila leaned against the heavy door to close it and met his eyes over Andy's squirming body. "Glad to see us?" she asked softly.

He nodded, holding his daughter and taking his wife's arm as they went upstairs to the nursery. He was even able to smile a little at Kathy's giggling kisses. Nothing seemed quite so horrible with his family around him.

* * *

"Here's the report you wanted."

Straker looked up as Jo Foster tossed the folder onto his desk, covering the papers he'd been writing on. He sat back in his chair and looked at her. "Thank you, Jo. I appreciate the quick work."

She sauntered over to the conference table and leaned against it. "Don't you want to read it before you thank me?"

He lifted a brow. "Why should I need to? I'm certain that it's complete and concise. I have read your reports in the past."

She flipped her hair off her shoulder. "Sure. But none were as detailed as this one."

"True." He sat forward and asked, "Are you having trouble with your assignment, Jo?"

She shook her head. "Not at all. I've been asked to spy on fellow operatives before. Not here, of course. But with the CIA. I don't have a problem with it. Nor do I think you're asking me to keep an eye on him for some whim. He's just slippery enough to need watching. But it would be nice if I knew which details were important to report about and which ones weren't."

Straker sighed. "Yes, it probably would. But that's just it. There is no way to know. But as long as Shaw refuses to keep a tighter rein on what the Security Department does, I have no other choice but to police it myself."

"You know, I'm surprised he didn't agree with you on that. Especially after what almost happened recently."

The commander ran a hand over his eyes. "He believes that a thorough policing of the Security Department would necessitate another Security Division inside the present one. And he's very much against that idea. Unfortunately, he is right to be wary. That way leads to disaster."

She frowned. "So he's content to let Jackson do whatever he wants?"

"Not really." Straker leaned back in his chair. "He knows that I'll be keeping an eye on Jackson, so he isn't too worried about it."

Jo laughed. "Oh, I see! So now it's your job to oversee the Security Department as well as SHADO, huh? That's rich!"

He grinned. "Shaw's quite a character, I'll admit."

She snorted. "Yeah!" After a moment, she got up and came to the desk. "Ed," she asked seriously, "how much did you have to do with my promotion?"

He raised his brows. "I had nothing whatsoever to do with it, Jo. Why should I?"

"Oh, come on!" she said, not buying his bland look for a minute. "You needed someone you could trust to do your dirty work for you, and you needed them in a key position in order to be able to monitor his movements. Are you seriously going to tell me that you didn't suggest me to Jackson as a replacement for Lathrop?"

"Of course not," he replied. "In fact, quite the contrary. I'm afraid I was a bit emphatic about not wanting you to get that position."

Jo gasped, then started laughing. "You are something else! My God! And of course, you had no idea that whatever you suggested, he would do the exact opposite. Did you?"

"Would he?" Straker asked innocently.

She shook her head, still chuckling. "You are too much!" She collapsed into a chair and sat looking at him for a moment. Then she frowned. "So, how emphatic were you?"

He bit back a chuckle. "I couldn't be too forceful, Jo. He is aware that I allow you and Sheila to be friends."

"You _allow?_"

Straker grinned at her outrage. "Well, that is the way he'd see it, you know."

"Maybe," she conceded. "But I'm a bit more worried about whether that's how _you _see it."

He shook his head at her. "You don't know me any better than that? I'm hurt. Believe me, Jo. If I had any say over who my wife befriends, you would not be at the top of the list of ones to go."

She laughed. "Okay. I can accept that. Especially since I've met a few of the more disreputable ones. How is she, by the way?"

"Fine," he said, frowning slightly. "You saw her at Christmas."

"I know," she said, toying with the tassel on her boot. "But the house was full of people, and we didn't really get much of a chance to talk."

"I see." He could tell that she was unhappy about something and wondered if she would say any more.

Then she looked up and met his eyes. "Ed, did you ever tell her about us?"

He frowned. Whatever he had expected her to say, it wasn't that. "Jo, there was no us."

"I know that, and you know that," she replied. "But does Sheila?"

"I was under the impression that you told her all about the incident shortly after we returned from our honeymoon."

"Sure. But that's just my version of it, Ed. Didn't you tell her your side of it?"

He flicked a hand. "Why would that be necessary? If you told her everything, then nothing more needed to be said about it."

She sat forward with a small gasp. "Yes, it did! She needed to know how you felt about it, Ed! Sheila is quite aware that you wouldn't just crawl into bed with anybody. I can't believe you never told her why you nearly did with me!"

"Why would it matter?" he asked reasonably. "The fact is that I didn't crawl into bed with you. Surely that's enough?"

"Men!" She rolled her eyes. "No, it's not enough, Ed. Not to Sheila. Look. Let me give you a clue on how to deal with her. If you haven't figured it out yet, the more she wants to know something, the less she'll ask. It's a leftover from growing up in the orphanage. You learn not to let on that you really want an answer to your questions, or they know you're vulnerable." He lifted an inquiring brow, and she grimaced. "Don't ask! Anyway. You can believe that she won't ask you point-blank about what happened between you and I. And it wouldn't even have mattered very much to her if you'd told her when I did. But the fact that you've never said anything about it in all this time will have preyed on her mind. Trust me on this. She's probably assuming all sorts of things by now."

"But, Jo. What can I tell her that you already haven't?"

She sighed. How could such an incredibly intelligent man be so dense? "You can tell her what you felt. Why you came to the decisions you came to: not turning me over to the police, inviting me over for dinner, all of that. It won't be a big deal to her once you explain. It's just that the longer you remain silent, the more she thinks happened."

"Are you saying that she'd doubt your word?"

"No. I'm saying that she's wondering what went on in your mind! And that's not something I could ever tell her, Ed."

He sat back and thought about it. "I see." After a moment, he looked at her. "And you think it's affecting your friendship?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I wish I did. We haven't had a real girl chat since... well, since The Great Shoe Incident." She frowned. "Maybe it has to do with that. Say, Ed. What did she say about finding out that Paul was her alternate mate or whatever?"

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"No."

"Oh." She grimaced at his expression. "Um, I guess you're not the only one who doesn't volunteer information."

He gave her a hard look. "I suggest if you want to know what's troubling her that you ask her yourself, Jo."

"Right." She stood up, knowing a dismissal without being told. "Enjoy the report. Same time, next week?"

"It's not an assignation, Jo."

She grinned. "That's too bad. Those are so much fun."

He merely shook his head at her.

* * *

"Thanks for coming over."

"That's all right," Sheila said as she took off her coat. "Where is he?"

Dee sighed. "In the bookroom. He won't talk; he won't eat. And he won't go to work. I'm at my wit's end, Sheila."

Her friend gave her a hug. "I can't guarantee anything, Dee. But I'll give it my best shot."

"Thanks so much," Delores replied fervently.

The only part of Alec that was visible from the doorway was his trouser legs propped on the footstool next to the wingback chair where he was seated. Sheila took a deep breath, went to the opposite chair across from him, and sat down. He did not acknowledge her presence with even a glance. She bit back a sigh. She hadn't been married to the King Clam of all clams for almost two years for nothing. Alec Freeman was bound to be easy compared to her husband. She relaxed in the armchair and waited him out.

When he poured himself another bourbon from the bottle next to the chair, she said, "May I?"

He finally looked at her, and the manners ingrained in him since childhood demanded that he get up and get her a glass. He did it grudgingly however, and almost thrust the full glass at her before sitting back down and staring into the fire.

She grimaced as she took a sip. Bourbon was not her favorite drink by a long shot. "How's it going, Alec?"

He gave her an ironic look. "How do you think? If you're here to talk me around, you can forget it! I'm not interested."

She set the glass in her lap and settled back into the chair. "Not at all. I completely agree with you."

That got his attention. He frowned at her for a long moment, then said, "You do?"

"Yes, I do. He takes far too much on himself, Alec. And doesn't bother to tell anyone else when he needs help. Sometimes it's as if he expects you to be a mindreader or something!"

He snorted. "You've got that right! My God! When I think about him all that day at SHADO, going on as if nothing was wrong, and all the time his son was in the hospital dying! What kind of man is that, Sheila, who won't let his friends help him at a time like that?"

"I know," she said, taking another sip. "He holds too much inside. Do you have any idea how much easier his life would be if he just opened up a bit more?"

He nodded and downed his drink. "A lot easier!" He reached down to refill his glass and asked, "Say, why are you siding with me?"

"Because I'm married to him, Alec. I deal with this stuff all the time." She leaned forward in the chair, placing the glass on the floor at her feet. "You and I know him better than anyone else in the world, Alec. We know how easy it is to hurt him. It has always amazed me to hear people say that he doesn't give a damn about them or about anything. The problem is that he cares too much! And he's never learned how to handle that much emotion. And between you and me, Alec, his father wasn't much of an example for him to follow."

"Hah! It was the worst thing for him. What good does bottling it all up inside do for you anyway? Ulcers, that's what! And I'll bet the only way he's avoided those is because he's a damned Maloran!"

She hid a grin. "Probably. But it has also helped him to have you around, Alec. He told me the other night that he never could have gotten through those months after I was captured if it hadn't been for you. You kept him focused, kept him sane."

"That's another thing! He never told me about you. Did he think I wouldn't understand? Did he think I'd be disgusted because he wanted out of that fool marriage? Not me! And why didn't he tell me when he found out you were alive, huh? Everybody knew but me!" Some of his bourbon sloshed onto the carpet as he gestured with the arm holding his glass. He seemed to realize that he was making a mess and drank the glass in one gulp.

Sheila agreed. "It's hardly the way to treat your best friend."

"That's right! Am I his best friend or not? That's what I want to know. He let me divert that transport. He knew, he _knew_ what it meant. But he let me do it! Would a man do that to his best friend?"

She laid a hand on his arm. "Alec, he was counting on you."

His bloodshot eyes met hers. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you know who you are, Alec? You're his conscience. He told me that a part of him died when I was captured. He could feel it die inside him. And it bothered him greatly, because he didn't know what he would become without that piece of himself. You became his barometer. He always knew he'd gone too far whenever you would look at him a certain way. And he would rethink things. And usually change his mind. You kept him from losing all touch with his humanity, Alec. He relied on you for that. Don't you see?"

"Why didn't he say something?"

"What could he say? If he told you how important you were to him, he would never be able to be certain that you weren't just overreacting from that point on. The only way it worked was for you to not know how much he relied on your judgment."

He was silent for a long moment, thinking about it. Then he looked at her. "Why didn't he tell me about John, Sheila? I would have helped him. Surely he knew that? I would never have diverted that transport if I'd known."

"I know that, Alec. And so did he. But he needed you more than ever that day. His judgment was completely unreliable when it came to the life of his son. It made him incapable of making any decent decision concerning the defecting alien. He was relying on you to decide. If he'd told you about John, you'd have been as hampered as he was. And he needed for one of you to be able to function as SHADO required. For the world's sake, Alec. He couldn't make the choice necessary, so he trusted you to do it for him. And he knew it was the right choice, Alec. That's why he never told you the outcome. You would never have believed that it was the correct thing to do if you'd learned the truth about John's death."

Alec ran a hand over his eyes, clearing them of excess moisture. "How do I face him, Sheila?"

She sighed. "Do you really think he blames you? He's the one who feels guilty, Alec. Because he used your friendship that way. Because he couldn't tell even his best friend that he was afraid of becoming something he hated. Do you have any idea how much your approval has meant to him over the years? He always felt that he was still marginally human as long as you continued to be his friend."

Alec broke down and sobbed for several minutes. Sheila kept her hand on his arm, but stayed quiet, letting him get it all out. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and said, "He's the greatest man that ever lived. He was never less than human, Sheila."

"I know," she said with a sigh. "But sometimes when you hurt so badly, you can begin to feel as though you've lost everything that's good in you. That I know. He couldn't lose himself. Not completely. There's just too much good in him. You and I know that, even if no one else does. But he wouldn't see it, Alec. He can't even see the women who follow him everywhere, hoping for a smile!"

He chuckled for the first time in a long while. "God! He's as blind as a bat!" He met her eyes and asked, "How did you ever manage to get his attention, Sheila?"

"Simple," she said with a grin. "I hit him over the head with a ton of bricks."

* * *

Max felt the adrenaline run through his system and grinned. This was his chance, he thought. If he could get enough evidence together, he might be able to convince the authorities to listen to him. He knew the guys at C.A.A.R. would believe him, but they believed everybody. He wanted to convert a few sceptics in high places. Hey, he might even get a book deal out of the whole thing! Or a movie contract. Now, wouldn't that be something? He took some more photographs of the lake, dreaming of the moment he would walk into Mr. Straker's office and offer him the movie of a lifetime, based on a true story. When he heard a sound behind him, it took a moment to register that he was no longer alone on the mountainside. He whirled around.

And lost his grin. A red-suited figure held a powerful looking gun on him, his opaque eyes impassive as they stared at Max out of the green liquid in his helmet.

**ACT III  
**  
"Ed, I'm worried."

"What is it, Buck?" Straker asked, realizing that his friend hadn't come to his office just to have a chat.

The big man paced, unable to sit, his hand running repeatedly through his short crop of hair. "When was the last time you heard from Max?"

Straker sat forward. "Just before Christmas. Why?"

"Not since then?"

"No. He was supposed to join us for dinner on Christmas, but he didn't show up. I figured he got a better offer with someone else."

"Oh, sure! And who could give him a better offer than you?" The look he sent his friend was wry. "Ed, did he mention anything to you that might explain him just taking off like this?"

"How long has he been gone, Buck?" Straker asked with dread.

"I'm not sure. There aren't any set schedules at the center. Members of the group show up whenever they want. But Max had been haunting the place for weeks, then all of a sudden--- nothing! He's not at his flat, and no one's seen him for a while now. I don't know why I thought you might know where he was at." He shrugged tiredly. "It was a long shot anyway."

His friend thought back to his last conversation with the boy. "Buck, what was he working on at the database? He seemed a bit excited about it when we talked last, and said that he should have more information to tell me soon."

Rogers frowned. "I don't know. I can check, I guess. Do you think it might be important?"

"I do," Straker said grimly. He picked up the phone. "What's the database's number, Buck?"

His friend rattled it off, then took the phone as Straker handed it to him. He spoke to the girl who answered for a few minutes, then hung up, looking even more worried than before he'd called.

"Well?" Straker asked him in the silence that followed.

Rogers looked up from his abstraction. "He was studying some strange reports we've been getting from Montana, Ed. In the Glacier International Park. They aren't much to go on, meagre stuff really; but I suppose if you take into account the sheer volume of stuff we've been receiving from that area, he might have stumbled onto something big going down. But surely he would have told someone? Me. Even you. He knows you're interested in that sort of thing."

"He planned to tell me, Buck, once he knew more. Perhaps he felt it necessary to keep quiet about it until he had more facts. Could he have gone there, do you think, in search of answers?"

"God!" Rogers looked shaken. "Ed, if he did... and something _is_ going on! What can we do?"

Straker's grim look instantly disappeared, and he leaned back in his chair with his hands folded. "I'm sure we're overreacting, Buck. He's bound to show up soon, having gone to visit friends up north or something. I tell you what. If he still isn't back in a few days, let me know, and I'll see if we can't find out where he went."

Rogers sighed, relieved that Straker didn't think it was too serious. "It's just so worrisome, Ed. I mean, most of these kids have lived through UFO experiences in their pasts. The last thing they need to do is be confronted with them again."

"I know, Buck," Straker said softly. "But I'm sure he's fine. Max has a good head on his shoulders. I'm sure nothing bad has happened to him. We'll hear from him soon. You'll see."

But after the older man left his office, Straker's face resumed its grim expression. He stabbed the button for the office to descend into SHADO Control and got on the phone to Lt. Ford, telling him to round up the command team. Immediately.

* * *

"Alright. Here's what we're looking at." Straker spread out the large map of Montana on the conference table, pointing to the mountains in its upper corner. "Emily says that the reports sent into C.A.A.R. that Max was studying center around this area here, Rainbow Peak and the lake nearby. They've received nothing conclusive, but she said that over fifty unconfirmed sightings have been lodged in the past month or so, as well as numerous odd occurrences that they've been unable to explain."

Peter spoke up. "But that area isn't a normal UFO hotspot."

"No. It's not," Straker agreed. "But it wouldn't be the first time they gave us the slip. Perhaps for their purposes, they needed a sparsely populated region. Northern Montana would be ideal."

"You think the boy might have gone there?"

Straker looked at Alec. It was the first time he'd spoken since entering the room, and the commander strove to meet his eyes squarely. "Yes. I think he has. He's just young enough to think he could check it out on his own, and foolhardy enough not to inform anyone where he was going."

Freeman nodded and frowned at the map. "Is there a way to get the Mobiles up there?"

"Yes," Straker said. "But it'll take time. And good weather. This is hardly the time of year to be traipsing around in the mountains. But the sooner we get our forces there, the sooner we will find out what the aliens have been up to."

Col. Carlin asked, "Who will you put in charge?"

Straker sighed. It was obvious that Peter wanted to go, but he'd just returned to Earth after a long stint on Moonbase 2, getting it ready for operations. He needed a break, even if it was just to be at HQ for a while. "I'm in charge, Peter. I'll fly into Montana and see if I can't track Max down at whatever motel where he's lodged. Hopefully, he can show us what's been going on up there."

"Is that wise, sir? You could be walking into a very large trap."

"Possibly," Straker agreed. "But Max won't open up to anyone but me. He's very suspicious, definitely paranoid, and I don't think he'll be reassured by the sight of the military moving in."

Alec grunted. "You're not going alone?"

Straker lifted a brow. "I'd appreciate the company, if you're offering."

Alec met his eyes and sighed at the diffidence he saw there. "I'm offering."

"Good." Straker straightened from the table. "Then let's go."

* * *

It wasn't hard to follow Max's trail. For a paranoid young man, he hadn't bothered to cover his tracks very well. But then, Straker doubted if he had expected to be followed halfway across the world. They reached the motel clinging precariously to the side of the mountain just as a light snow began falling. Straker eyed the sky grimly. That wasn't going to make it easy for the transport with the Mobiles aboard to land.

The motel manager seemed disinterested in them, but grudgingly gave them a room. When they flashed their ID's at him, he only shrugged and admitted that the boy who'd checked into Room 8 hadn't been around for a few days. When pressed, he said he thought Max might have been wanting to camp, since he'd had gear with him. In answer to Straker's acid reply that it was hardly the weather for outdoor camping, he said nothing at all.

"I wasn't sure he'd even give us the key," Alec remarked as they let themselves into Max's room.

Straker nodded, opening drawers in the low bureau along the wall. "You'd think he would be happy to have a little excitement during the off season."

"There's just no pleasing some people."

"Here, Alec!" Straker withdrew a thick black notebook from the bottom drawer and opened it.

"Well?"

He looked up with a grimace and handed it to the colonel. "Code."

Alec turned the pages, his astonishment growing. "It's _all_ in code!"

"Unfortunately." At Alec's raised brows, he said, "I did warn you he was paranoid."

"Yes, but...!" Freeman dropped the book onto the bed in disgust. "What now?"

Straker looked around the spartan room. Max had left nothing else behind to give them a clue where he'd gone from here. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How good are you at cracking code, Alec?"

* * *

They headed out at first light, following Max's notebook carefully. It had taken them the better part of the night to figure out the system he had used to encode it, and Alec was still grumbling about it. "I can't believe how convoluted that damn code was!"

Straker eyed the clouds overhead as they climbed. "He may be young, Alec, but he's quite brilliant."

Alec grunted. "You sound like you're proud of him," he complained.

Straker looked at Freeman's back as they entered an aspen grove. _I am_, he thought, and was surprised to realize he felt so strongly about the boy. He frowned, bothered by it. But after a while he was frowning about something else entirely. "Alec."

Freeman stopped and swung around. They had traversed quite a distance and were now near an outcropping that overlooked the large lake. Straker's grim expression made him raise a brow. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "What, Ed?"

Straker was removing his radio from the pocket of his parka. "Listen."

Alec obediently cocked an ear, but he heard nothing that might have attracted Straker's attention. Then the small hairs at the back of his neck stood on end as he realized that he heard _nothing_. Nothing at all. No birds, no animals, nothing. His shocked eyes met Straker's.

"Duncan?"

The major's voice came over the radio loud and clear. "Yes, Commander."

"Where are the Mobiles?"

"Heading up the ridge now, sir. They should be near your area in about twenty minutes."

"I think we've found them," Straker told him. "There's a large lake here." He glanced at Alec.

"Bowman Lake," his friend supplied immediately.

"Bowman Lake," Straker said into the radio. "I want teams surrounding that lake as soon as possible. Divers, too."

"Divers, sir?" Major Duncan sounded surprised.

"Yes, divers!" his commander said sharply. "And make sure they're armed."

"Yes, sir." The major did not bother to mention that this was hardly the weather for sending his men into frigid water. What the commander asked for, the commander got. No questions asked. Or allowed.

"Ed!"

Straker put the radio back and headed over to where Alec was squatting by some bushes. "What is it?"

Alec brushed aside a low branch, and Straker bent to see the trampled remains of a campfire. Alec removed his gloves and fingered the ash carefully. "Recent," he told his commander.

Straker nodded, standing straight to gaze out over the area. The scenery that met his eyes should have brought a smile of admiration to his lean face. It was certainly breathtaking from where they stood. But he did not seem to notice, a worried frown growing as he searched for any sign of Max. The notebook held no further secrets for them, the last entry only bringing them to this spot above the lake. Where Max had gone from here was unknown. And the absolute silence around them seemed to suggest that the boy might never be found. At least alive.

**ACT IV**

****"It's a dome, sir."

Straker met Alec's eyes before answering the major. The commander had been in one of their domes before. "You're certain?"

"Yes, sir. Reconnaissance brought back photos." As Duncan handed these to the commander, he continued. "It's nearly three miles in diameter, sir, and shows evidence of construction near one end, as you can see from the photographs."

"So, they're either still building it, or they're adding on," Alec said.

Major Duncan looked at Col. Freeman. "Yes, sir. It's impossible for us to tell how long the structure has been there. We may learn more when we go inside."

"You're not going inside," Straker announced tersely.

"Sir?"

"Major, at this juncture it isn't even important that we find out what they're up to in that dome. Whatever they're doing, it involves a planned takeover of Earth. Therefore, our top priority is to get rid of that dome. Now. Before they launch whatever plan they've concocted."

The major sighed. He would have liked to have seen the inside of that thing. "Yes, sir."

Straker's look softened so slightly that only Alec was aware of it. "Believe me, Duncan, you don't want to go inside that dome. It would be like trying to find your way through a maze. And we'd be far outnumbered." He leaned over the map where the major had marked the spot for the dome. "We would need to position the underwater cannons here and here, as well as here and here." He showed Duncan where he wanted them. "A simultaneous explosion should destroy their base without the possibility of them returning fire."

"Very well, sir. But that area's deep. It will take a bit to get them in position."

"Then start now, Major."

"Yes, sir."

As Straker went to exit the small tent that constituted their command center on the ridge, he gave Major Duncan a last look. "And make sure you're not spotted."

"Yes, sir," the major said, his posture only relaxing after the commander had left. He shared a grimace with Col. Freeman before Alec followed Straker out the flapped door of the tent. Then he got on the radio to tell his men the news.

* * *

"Where's Commander Straker?" Alec asked when he arrived back at camp. He'd been supervising the removal of alien bodies after a gun battle on the slopes.

Major Duncan jerked his head toward the ridge, his face stern as he worked over the map. Alec nodded his thanks and headed for the ridge. He found the commander looking through his binoculars, not over the lake where the dome hid beneath, but back over the slopes toward the peak. It took him a moment to realize why.

"The boy's still not been found?" he asked.

Straker turned and met his eyes, his own dark with worry. "No. Damn it, Alec! We've got men all over this mountain. Surely they can manage to find one unarmed young man!"

"All we've managed to find so far have been three alien patrols."

Straker's eyes asked a question, and Alec sighed. "We got them, but not alive. There's been quite a bit of gunplay. I hope our friends under the water haven't noticed."

The commander nodded grimly, but did not comment. Instead, he lifted the binoculars again and continued to search the mountainside. Alec came a step closer. "Ed, you do realize that we may not find him?"

"Yes," Straker said in a taut voice, not lowering the binoculars. "I am quite aware of that possibility."

Alec turned away in resignation, knowing that there was no dealing with him in this kind of mood. But before he could return to camp, Major Duncan came to where they stood. "What is it, George?"

The major said, "The cannons are in position, Colonel. We're ready to fire at the commander's order."

Alec followed the major's glance to Straker, who had not acknowledged that he had even heard them. He looked back at Duncan. "Thanks, Major."

"Yes, sir." Duncan gave one last glance toward the commander, then headed back to the tent.

Col. Freeman watched the commander in silence for a while, then said, "Ed?"

Straker lowered the binoculars and met his eyes. "Alec. What if he's been captured? What if he's in that dome right now?"

"Then he'll thank us for blowing it up," Alec said firmly. "You know that as well as I do. Their tender mercies _aren't_."

"I know." Straker's voice was almost a whisper. "But he could have found some way in and just got lost. He might be all right, Alec, if we could just get him out of there."

"And who do you have in mind to go find him? You? It would be suicide, and you know it."

Straker stared out over the water. "I might be able to find my way through their maze."

Freeman's snort told him what he thought of that plan. "You can't do it, Ed. Listen, they've had patrols covering this mountain for who-knows-how-long before we got here. He couldn't have helped getting picked up sooner or later. Our guys have had no sign of him. Face it, Ed. We're too late to help him."

"Believe me, Alec. I know the odds."

"Then give the order, Ed. We're running out of time. We have no idea how long it'll be before they notice that their patrols haven't reported in. And then they'll know we're here."

Straker's grip tightened around the binoculars, but he did not lift them again to his face. His blue eyes scanned the lake below as if they might somehow pierce its mysteries. When he looked back at Freeman, he looked beaten. "I can't, Alec. If there's a chance that he's alive, I just..."

Alec came forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Then let me do it, Ed. I didn't know the boy. It's nothing to me to give the order."

Straker's eyes met his for a long moment, then fell. "No. I can't do that, Alec. I did that to you before, and I can't do it again. It's not fair to you. The decision is mine, and I have to make it." He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, then squared his shoulders and looked at his friend. Suddenly, he glanced past Alec toward the tent. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Sir," Lt. Jenkins said, unsure what he had interrupted, but certain that it had been important. When Straker lifted a brow, he hurried forward. "We've found someone. In the caves near the peak."

"_Who?_"

"Um..." For a moment, the lieutenant was nonplussed at that harsh tone. "A youth, sir. They're bringing him down now."

"Find out who he is," Straker demanded.

"Yes, sir."

After he left, Alec said, "It has to be him, Ed." Straker merely looked at him, and he added, "Who else could it be?"

Straker sighed. "Give the order."

"Right."

* * *

"Holy shit!"

Straker turned from the view of the lake to see Max coming toward him between two operatives. The young man was gawking at the sight of thousands of gallons of water settling back into the lake after bursting up in the explosion. At a signal from the commander, both operatives left the ridge and returned to the command center. "Hello, Max."

Max dragged his eyes from the scene and met the commander's. "Mr. Straker! What are you doing here?"

"What do you think, Max?"

Max's wide eyes looked back out at the lake, then returned to the commander's face. "You blew them up."

"Yes."

The young man nodded. "Did you follow me here?"

"Yes, Max. I did. Does that upset you?"

"No." He shrugged. "It would have been nice to get more pictures though." He looked back at the tent where the teams were dividing up to begin the clean-up. "But I suppose I won't even get back the ones that I have taken, will I?"

"I'm sorry, Max."

"Yeah. That's alright." He put his hands in his jeans pockets.

"It was smart of you to hide in the caves, Max."

The younger man grimaced. "That's me. Max the Brave."

Straker frowned at his tone. "If you had tried to fight them, Max, you'd be dead now."

Max met his eyes for a fleeting moment. "Maybe. But it hardly makes me a hero. It's no fun to know you're a coward."

"Was it cowardly to come here, Max? To camp out in the open in January in the mountains just to find out what they were doing here? That doesn't sound like a coward to me."

Max swallowed. "But when one of them snuck up on me, what did I do? Did I fight back? Did I karate chop him or beat the hell out of him? No! I used my camera flash to blind him, and I ran like an idiot."

Straker laid his hand on Max's shoulder. "You can hardly call it idiotic when you're still alive to tell the tale. Besides, even if you'd managed to kill the one who found you, he certainly had a partner. They travel in twos. If you'd fought, you still would have died, Max."

The young man thought about that for a while. Then he glanced at Straker. "So, I get to live to remember being a wuss. Is that it?"

"Retreat isn't cowardly, Max. And if it means that you'll survive to fight another day, then yes. It was by far the smartest thing you could have done. Sometimes it's braver to stay out of the line of fire."

"Would you have?"

Straker grimaced. "I would probably have been too scared to think of using my flash, Max."

Max grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. It was a good move."

The young man met his eyes. "You think?"

"Definitely."

"Cool." He thought for a moment, then said quietly, "That's how I survived before, you know. I hid."

Straker's hand tightened slightly on his shoulder, but his voice was calm when he asked, "Did you?"

"Yeah. They came into our house in broad daylight. We had absolutely no warning. One minute we were sorting the laundry and cleaning the kitchen; the next, everyone was dead."

"Except you?"

"Except me. I had been hanging up the jackets in the hall closet. When the gunfire started, I just sank to the back and huddled there, too frightened to do a thing."

_And probably hated himself for not trying to save them ever since_, Straker thought. "It saved your life, Max. If you had left the closet, you would have suffered the same fate as your family."

"I know." The eyes that turned to him were tortured. "But they cut them open. They took... they did all sorts of things to them before they left."

Straker bit back a gasp. "You saw it?"

Max nodded. "The closet door wasn't completely closed. I could see enough."

"How old were you, Max?"

"Seven."

Straker closed his eyes, squeezing the shoulder he held for a moment before releasing it. "I'd say you were very brave, Max, to have survived that."

The young man looked at him. "I didn't feel brave."

The commander smiled. "You don't usually. Not in a situation like that. But it's bravery nonetheless. You kept very still and managed to live through it. Your parents would have been proud of you, Max."

"Do you think so?"

Straker's deep blue eyes met his. "I know I am."

* * *

"You did the right thing."

Straker turned from the plane window and looked at his friend. It took him a moment to focus on that deceptively hard face, and he returned his thoughts to the present with a sigh. "I wonder if Max would agree with you."

"Maybe not, Ed. But it's still right. Besides, you let him take part in the clean-up."

Straker grimaced. "What else could I do, Alec? If we'd given him the amnesia drug before we were done out there, he'd have just come back. And found the military very much in evidence at a possible UFO site. We didn't need that kind of trouble."

Alec closed the report he'd been working on and put it in his briefcase. "You could have put him in a cell for a few days, that's what. Instead, you let him have a piece of the action."

"Yes," his friend agreed bitterly, "before I took it all away from him."

It was Alec's turn to sigh. "He's lucky to even be alive."

"Maybe." Straker brooded for a moment. "You know, Alec. If I had the choice, I'd have preferred to erase his first UFO incident from his mind, rather than this one."

"You never change," his friend complained.

The commander looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Alec sipped some of his coffee, grimacing because it had gotten cold while he was working. "You're always trying to ease everybody's pain, Ed."

"And what's wrong with that?" Straker demanded.

"Because that pain is the very thing that makes them who they are!" Alec gave him a stern look. "Remember Sheila?"

Straker sighed. "Yes. All right. It's not as though we can do anything about it at this late date, anyway. It's just that his first experience was so horrifying, and this time he fought back. Perhaps not in the manner he would have chosen, but he won, Alec. And I hate the thought of taking that away from him."

Alec smiled as the stewardess refilled their cups. Once she had returned to the galley, he said, "You didn't have a lot of options, Ed. He's too young for SHADO. What would we do with him?"

Straker fiddled with the handle of his coffee cup. "I know. But he's excellent material, Alec. Look what he managed to do. He put together data that no one else thought was important and came up with a scenario that was right on the mark. And if that wasn't enough, he followed his theory across the world to check it out and see if it held. We need people like him in SHADO."

"Well, I doubt if you'll let him out of your sight over the next few years. When he's old enough and had some training, he'll probably join and make us all look bad."

"Hmmm." Straker gave his friend a grim look. "My biggest concern is what kind of trouble he'll give us in the next few years. A man that determined will find what he's looking for, Alec. And frankly, we don't need the publicity."

**ACT V**

"Hello, there."

John halted on entering the office, blinking at the sight of a woman in his father's command chair. This was unexpected, even if it was his aunt.

She took pity on him and said, "Relax, John. I haven't taken over SHADO. I'm just finishing some reports for Peter. Are you looking for your father? He's in the studio."

"Yeah," he said, trying to keep the relief out of his voice. A guy never knew when the universe was going to go squirrelly on him. "But I'm in no hurry."

"Okay," she answered. "How was Skydiver?"

"Great. I've never worked that closely with Masters before. I like him."

"Good. I know your father will want to hear all about it. Shall I call upstairs for you?"

"No. That's okay," he said hurriedly. "It can wait."

"John," she said, seeing right through him. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Aunt Ginny." When she only raised an elegant eyebrow, he sighed. "It's just that I said some things before I left, and well... I'm not sure how to face him."

She shook her head at him. "Try _I'm sorry_."

John grimaced. "It's just that I'm not sure I am, Aunt Ginny."

"Oh?"

He sighed again. "It's a long story."

"I think we've got time," she answered and reached over to push the button to close the door.

Accepting his fate, John sat down in front of the desk. "Were you here the day I died? I mean, the John of this universe?"

Virginia closed her eyes for a moment. "Oh, John. You didn't bring that up with your father, did you?"

"Why shouldn't I? Damn it, he let me die! He diverted that transport just to contact an alien. Am I supposed to just swallow that?"

She leaned forward. "He didn't divert anything."

John frowned. "The report said..."

"I don't give a damn what the report said! Your father did not divert that transport. Col. Freeman did. If the report says that your father did it, it's because he accepted the responsibility for the decision. But he didn't make it. Good God, John! Do you honestly think he could have?"

"Uncle Alec did?" John ran a hand through his hair. "Why?"

Ginny sighed. "He didn't know, John. Your father didn't tell him why he needed that transport. As far as I know, he never has told him anything about it."

John's face whitened. "Aunt Ginny," he said quietly. "I think he knows now."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged guiltily. "He was sort of there when I yelled at Dad."

"Oh, shit."

He swallowed and nodded. The office was silent for a time, then he said, "Why didn't he stop him, Aunt Ginny? Why didn't he just tell him why he needed that transport?"

"Look, John. First of all, we're in the middle of a war here. And one of the enemy was trying to defect. Now, how important do you think it was to contact him and find out what he would tell us? Don't you see? This war could have ended a long time ago with the information that one alien would have supplied."

John frowned. "But didn't he get killed before they reached him?"

"Yes," she said with a sigh. "But it was a race against time no matter how we played it. What you have to understand is that it was right there, in our grasp. What choice did your father have?"

"I don't know."

"His second reason was almost as important. If he'd re-diverted that transport after Alec sent it to Ireland, everyone in SHADO would have known it. And it would have come out why he did it. Now, can you see your father setting that kind of example to his staff? Personal business over the welfare of the world? If he didn't get court martialed over it, it would have been a miracle. Not that he would have cared for that when his son's life was at stake, but think of the precedent he would have been setting, John. He couldn't have done it. Once Alec sent that transport to Ireland, there was no turning back. And your father knew it."

"I didn't realize," John said, running a hand through his hair. "Emily was right. He did the best he could."

"I'll say," his aunt said tartly. "That transport was barely allowed to get all the Mobiles out before it was back in the air heading for London. And those pilots never knew how important that small package they carried was to their commander. You're wrong if you think he didn't care about you, John. It tore him apart not to be able to do more."

He met her gaze, his own slightly misty. "I guess I do owe him an apology after all. I had it all wrong. I should have known better."

"Yes, you should have," she answered, not sparing him. "He loves you, John. You should never have doubted that. You didn't see. You weren't here to witness what he went through. The day of your funeral he never left the lot. He didn't come down to HQ at all, but just wandered the sets all day. Alec stayed with him. I think he was afraid to leave him alone."

John frowned. "You mean, after the funeral?"

Virginia sighed. "No. I mean, the whole day. John, he wasn't allowed to go to the funeral."

"What?"

She grimaced. "I don't know the details. Alec only told me that your mother asked him not to show up. So he didn't."

"Son of a bitch!" His reply was quiet, but forceful.

"Some day you may sit in this chair," she said. "Then perhaps you'll begin to understand what it takes to be a commander like your father. There will never be another commander who can replace him. Or even come close."

"I know that," he said.

"Good. If you want to talk about who's to blame for what happened to you, think about this for a minute. Your father accepted all the blame for your death. After all, he's accountable for the entire planet. What's one more person? But you're just as accountable, John. You're the one who ran into the road in the first place. And what about your mother? She should have tried to stop you."

He grimaced. "If I have a choice, I say let's blame her."

She chuckled, then met his eyes gravely. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you all this, John. It certainly isn't my place. But I couldn't let you think he could ever be that callous. Not Ed Straker."

"No. I'm glad you told me, Aunt Ginny." He stood up. "Tell Dad I'll get back with him later, okay?"

"Where are you going?"

He grinned at her. "Somewhere I've been meaning to go since I got here."

* * *

"I don't know, Mr. Straker. Maybe someone else would be better for the job."

"Max," he said patiently. "You're the best man for the job. Surely you know that? Who else can keep the team from bickering? Or keep track of the endless paperwork as well as you? Buck wants you for his assistant, and frankly, I'd be worried if he didn't. You're good, Max. You deserve this promotion."

The younger man kept his eyes on the floor. He was still dealing with the fact that he had come up with nothing in Montana. He'd been so sure. And it had been nothing but a wild goose chase. Another failure. And Mr. Straker thought he could handle this job? "What if I screw up?"

Straker sighed, wishing life wasn't such a series of impossible choices. He knew exactly why Max was feeling so low. And there was just so little he could do to help him. "What if you don't screw up, Max? What if you do just fine?"

The young man's head came up at that, and he met Straker's deep blue eyes. "Yeah? You think I can do it?"

"Yes, Max. I'm sure of it."

For a moment, a split second, Max felt a strong sense of deja-vu, as if he had heard those words or similar ones from this man once before. It flustered him. But it also gave him the courage to be able to say, "Okay, Mr. Straker. I'll give it my best shot."

"Thank you, Max."

* * *

"Hello, Commander."

"Hello, Virginia. All quiet?"

She smiled, putting away the last of the reports. "Yes, sir. Do you want to speak to Peter? He's on break, but I can get him for you."

He set his briefcase down next to his chair and said, "No, that's all right. After his break is soon enough."

"Alright." She turned to leave the office, then said, "By the way, John was in."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He said to tell you that he'll get back with you later. There was something he wanted to do first."

"I see." Straker frowned for a moment. "I suppose he wanted to talk to Emily."

Ginny shook her head. "No. I don't think it was that. He said he wanted to check out something."

"Did he say what it was?"

She shrugged. "Only that it was somewhere he'd been wanting to go since he got here."

Straker went completely still for a moment, then headed for the door. "Tell Col. Carlin I'll talk to him later."

"Yes, sir," she said, bewilderedly following him from the office. "Is everything okay?"

"No," he said tersely. "How long ago did John leave?"

"About twenty minutes ago. I'm sorry. Should I have stopped him?"

He shook his head. "No. You wouldn't have known."

"Where did he go, Ed?" she asked worriedly.

"Where does everyone who comes back from the dead want to go, Colonel?"

She stared after his retreating back for a long time, then shut her eyes as the realization came. "Oh, _shit!_"

* * *

"Hi there! Come on in."

"Thanks." Sheila entered the condo and shrugged out of her coat. "Where's the pumpkin?"

Jo grinned. "Out cold. She ate a big lunch, then zonked." She took her friend's coat and hung it in the closet, then said, "Coffee?"

"Sounds good."

"Have a seat." Jo left the room and returned after a minute with two steaming cups. "So, what's up?" she asked after sitting down on the opposite couch.

Sheila said simply, "I missed you."

Jo blinked and said softly, "I was here all the time."

"I know."

She took a sip of her coffee, then said, "Was it me?"

Sheila met her eyes and grimaced. "No. It was me." She looked down at her clasped hands and said, "I guess I had a hard time dealing with the fact that I had feelings for my best friend's husband."

"Well, I can understand that," Jo said dryly.

Sheila ran a hand through her hair and nodded, a small smile on her face. "Okay. So, maybe I shouldn't have been such an idiot about it."

"No. You shouldn't have," Jo replied. "But nobody promised that life would be simple. And knowing you, you'd have to get past all the guilt first before you felt it safe to talk to me about it."

Sheila chuckled. "Yeah. I did. Don't bother to tell me that you don't feel any guilt whatsoever, because that's not news to me."

Jo grinned. "Just so we understand each other."

Sheila met her eyes and sighed. "I have missed you."

"Good. Did Ed tell you I yelled at him for not telling you about us?"

"No," Sheila said with a smile. "Did you?"

"Oh, yeah. I thought maybe you were upset about that. But then I realized that it was probably Paul. When in doubt, I always blame stuff on him."

"I'm sure that pleases him."

Jo chuckled. "Oh, he loves it!"

Sheila's smile faded after a minute. "Jo, I..."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Sheila! Like it's that big of a deal. I trust my husband. _And_ my best friend. And I'll bet that devious husband of yours feels the same way I do. It's not such a crisis after all, you know."

Sheila sighed. "Maybe not."

"Then stop worrying about it! You trust me with your husband, don't you?"

Her friend grinned. "No. But I do trust Ed."

"Oh, thanks!" Rather than being offended, Jo collapsed into giggles. After a while, she looked at her friend and sighed. "I hate it when you won't talk to me."

"I'm sorry."

Jo shrugged. "Just don't do it again. I felt... I don't know. Abandoned or something."

Sheila laid a hand over hers. "No, Jo. Never that."

"Alright."

"You know," Sheila said with a grin. "It's all Alec's fault that I'm here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We were talking about Ed the other day, and I realized that our friendship is kinda like theirs. We depend on each other. You know?"

Jo grinned. "Yeah. Sheila, I don't know if he'll ever say anything to you or not. You never know with him. But he never loved me. I can swear to that."

"Oh, Jo. I know," Sheila said. "And it doesn't really bother me that much. It's a little thing, you know? Not like Laura was."

"Really? I'm crushed," Jo answered cheekily. "I'm glad he finally told you about her, Sheila. It pissed me off that you didn't know."

"Did Paul tell you?"

"Oh, no. Paul doesn't know hardly anything about her. I looked it up in the records. But Alec knew, and I think Ginny."

Sheila nodded. "Well, I have John to thank that Ed even told me anything. I know that he and his father have some adjusting to do, but I'm very glad to have him in our lives, Jo. He reminds me of Ed when he was younger."

"Really?" Jo's brows raised. "I didn't think Ed was ever a flirt."

Sheila laughed. "He wasn't. John reminds me of Ed in other ways."

"Like what?"

"Oh, like the way he carries himself, the way he looks you right in the eye, the way he speaks. Little things like that."

"Well, I'm just glad it's out in the open about Laura. He was such an idiot not to tell you."

Sheila's smile was soft. "Oh, he had plenty of reasons. But in a way, I'm glad I didn't find out about her all at once. I don't know if I could have handled it as well. As it is, he's proud of me for being so understanding."

Jo snorted. "An idiot! What did I say?" They shared a grin, then Jo said, "I must admit, I was a little surprised that he only knew her for three days. She made an awfully big impression in that short time, don't you think?"

Sheila set her coffee cup down with a snap. "Three days?"

Her friend raised a brow. "You said you knew about her. Didn't he tell you?"

"Ed? Volunteer information? You've got to be kidding!"

"I'm sorry, Sheila. Why didn't you grill him?"

Sheila shrugged. "Maybe because I didn't want to be bombarded with tidbits like that," she said in disgust and got up to look out the window.

Jo gazed at her back for a few minutes, then asked softly, "Does it matter, Sheila? She doesn't have him. You do."

"I know." Sheila turned and gave a wan smile. "It's stupid really, to be so petty. I know that if I'd ever met her, I probably would have liked her. How can I blame him for feeling the same?"

"I don't think it's stupid," Jo argued. "And I don't think it's petty. Let me tell you something, Sheila, just between the two of us. If you'd gone to bed with Paul when you were dating him, I'd have scratched your eyes out, best friend or not."

Sheila laughed suddenly and came back to her seat. "Good. Because I would certainly have broken every one of your fingers if you'd gone to bed with Ed."

Jo grinned. "So let's not talk about pettiness, shall we? The truth of the matter is that she's history, and you're Ed's wife. Whatever he felt for her didn't get the chance to get off the ground. Whereas you, on the other hand, have him right in the palm of your little hand."

"Yeah."

"Okay then."

Sheila sipped her coffee. "You know, Jo," she said after a minute or two. "I suppose I should really go check out the records on her, just as a precaution against anything he might decide to tell me."

Jo sat back and eyed her friend. "You don't want to do that, Sheila."

Startled, Sheila met her eyes. "Oh?"

"No."

Sheila blinked and stared at her friend for a long moment. Then she sighed. Deeply. "I see. She was beautiful."

Jo shrugged, glad that she hadn't been forced to say it out loud. "You're not exactly chopped liver yourself, you know."

Sheila's grin was lopsided. "Actually..."

Jo gave a crack of laughter. "Okay! Wrong choice of words! But, damn it! You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I know what you mean." Sheila ran a weary hand through her hair, and Jo sighed.

"Look, Sheila," she said, getting up from the couch. "I want to show you something." She left the room and returned with a photograph, which she handed to her friend.

Sheila gazed at it in surprise. It was from The Great Shoe Incident, when Keith had snapped a shot for Jo since she had missed the fun. There was Paul with a silly grin on his face, on his knees and holding that tacky shoe. And there she was, her foot resting in his hand, grinning as she leaned back against her husband's shoulder. She looked up at Jo. "What?"

"Look," demanded Jo.

Sheila obediently looked again. And gasped. Her husband was smiling also. But he wasn't looking at the camera. His eyes were on his wife. And the look in his eyes... Sheila had to blink away sudden moisture in order to see the picture clearly. "Jo..."

"Yeah," her friend said with a smile. "A picture's worth a thousand words. So I've been told."

"You're a good friend," Sheila said. "I appreciate this." She started to hand the photo back to Jo, but her friend waved it away.

"I'm better than you think," Jo said. "That copy's for you. Mine's in the nursery."

"The nursery?"

"Sure. We want little Sheila Roo to have a picture of her hero to look at, don't we?"

"Oh, Jo!" Sheila's eyes were full of tears, but she didn't care. "You're the best!"

Jo swiped at her own eyes fiercely. "You'd better believe it, girl!" She cocked her head to the side for a moment, then jumped up. "And someone's awake. Shall we look in on her?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

He slammed on the brakes as he pulled up behind John's car. Even though he knew he was too late, that he hadn't had a chance of catching him before he saw, he still had hoped to get there in time. But as he jogged up the side of the hill, he could see John already standing in front of the grave.

And he wasn't sure if his son would even want to see him, let alone speak to him. He took a deep breath, and climbed the rest of the way.

John turned at his approach, his eyes fierce in a face white with anger. "I hate her!" he said.

Straker said quietly, "John, you don't mean that."

"Yes, I do!" his son answered. "God, Dad! What is this?" He gestured to the gravestone.

Straker read the engraved words: John Rutland. "You have to understand, son."

"What? That my mother's a bitch? Yeah, Dad. I think I've figured that one out." John sent him a glare. "Why didn't you stop her? Why did you let her get away with this?"

"It wasn't that simple," his father replied, his calm voice a marked contrast to his son's anger. "I told you that your mother took your death very hard."

"Yeah," John said. "So of course that meant taking it out on you. I think I can see where this is going."

Straker pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, John. She had every right to be upset. I had let her down. For the last time. I let both of you down. I told her I would get the medicine, and I was too late. I was too late!"

"Dad," John said, responding more to the pain in his father's voice than the words themselves. "You did what you could."

"It wasn't enough! Damn it, John. It wasn't enough!" Straker's lips thinned as he fought to regain his calm. "Your mother had every right to do what she did."

John threw up his hands. "My God! You always justified her, you know. Always. It made me sick. Damn it, Dad. She was wrong! Are you going to tell me that Rutland ever adopted me? Huh? Because I don't believe it."

"No," his father said.

John ran an agitated hand through his hair. "So. Why did you let her put that name on my grave? Didn't it matter to you?"

"Of course, it mattered!" For a moment, John glimpsed the depth of his father's pain, and it shook him. Then Straker said wearily, "But it wasn't the time for that, John. You had just died. I couldn't deal with a long legal battle, and I certainly didn't want to inflict one on her."

John nodded. "So you just let it go. Like everything else she did."

"John."

His son lifted a hand, letting it slide. He leaned against the stone, looking out over the cemetery for a bit. "I suppose you never come here," he said after a while.

"All the time."

He looked at his father in surprise. "How can you bear it?" he asked incredulously.

Straker came closer, laying a hand against the top of the gravestone. "I've always considered it a part of my penance," he said softly.

John tried to say something, _anything_, but couldn't. "Dad!" he finally uttered, shaken to the core. "I would have... I would have forgiven you."

His father just looked at him in silence.

"Okay," he amended, realizing why his father didn't believe him. "Maybe I would have been upset at first. But later, I would have, Dad. Once I understood."

"Thank you, John."

"Listen, Dad. You've always been my hero, you know? I'm not mad at you for making the decision you made. Not anymore. It was just a shock to find out that you weren't this perfect god that I always thought you. That things bothered you. That your choices weren't always as easy as you made them look." He shrugged. "It's stupid, I guess. But I always thought that nothing ever got to you."

His father sighed. "It's not stupid, John. That's the image that is needed. The commander isn't allowed room for mistakes. It's funny. They wouldn't think of giving me an Oscar for any of my performances in SHADO, but it can be a lot harder there than any other role I've ever played."

"I'll bet." There was silence on the hillside for a while. "Can I tell you something, Dad? You know those guys that are always trying to get a little of your attention? I've always been jealous of them."

"Why?" Straker was shocked.

"Because you take the time for them. Oh, I know. You've always taken the time to talk to me too, to answer all of my multitude of questions over the years. But I guess I just don't want to share you."

Straker wasn't sure how to reply. "John, I..."

"No, it's okay. I'm just being selfish, and I know it. They're lucky to have you in their life. You're a great example. They have no idea just how great a hero you are."

"I'm no hero."

His son just looked at him. "If you say so." John straightened from the grave and took his father's arm to return to their cars. After a few steps, he stopped and glanced back at the grave. "Dad. Promise me something."

"What, John?"

"That when I die, you'll bury me in the family cemetery in Boston. Not somewhere on some damn cold hill."

Straker sighed, his heart easing for the first time in over two weeks. "I'll do what I can."

"Good." When they reached their cars, John said, "I guess we'd better head home. Sheila said that we're having chicken and dumplings for dinner, and I wouldn't want to miss that."

Straker smiled slightly. "No. Madeline makes the biscuits so light that it's like eating air."

John chuckled. "So, Dad. How does Sheila know when you're in need of comfort food?"

His father looked at him in surprise. "I don't know. Is that what it is?"

"You tell me. I know that Mom, Gay of course, always made it for you when you'd had a tough day at work."

Straker frowned, not liking the thought of being predictable enough for two universes. "I've never thought about it before."

"Oh." John shrugged. "Well, I'm not complaining, mind you. I love them myself."

"Then I guess we'd better go get some before they're gone." His father slid behind the wheel of his car.

"Dad."

Straker looked over at his son, who was watching him over the open door of his sports car. "Yes, John?"

"I love you."

His father swallowed. Hard. "I love you too, son."

**EPILOGUE**

****He looked up from his paperwork and watched her as she read her novel. He loved that intent expression she got when she was thinking hard. Knowing Sheila, she'd have figured out whodunit long before she reached the end of the story. God, he loved her!

She glanced up just then and caught him watching her. "Hi, there."

He sat back in his chair and said, "Hi, yourself. You know, Sheila. I was just thinking."

"That's a dangerous sport."

He grinned. "I know. But I realized something. I have all these pictures around me of the children." He gestured to the framed pictures that covered his desktop. "But I don't have any of you."

She frowned. "You want me to get a photo done?"

He stood up from behind the desk and came over to the couch where she sat. "No. I want you to have your portrait painted."

Sheila grinned. "But then it'll be in the third floor gallery."

"Not at all," he said as he sat next to her. "I want to put it right here, over the mantle."

"Ed!" she said, laying a dramatic hand against her heart. "You prefer me to the Monet?"

He chuckled. "I do." He gave her a soft kiss, then said, "I most certainly do. Well?"

She smiled at him. "Who am I to argue with the head of the house?"

"Good. I'm so glad you feel that way, Sheila."

She laughed, and he grinned at her.

"You didn't say much about your day," she said after a while, running a hand through his beautiful hair as he leaned against her.

He sighed. "It was difficult. But it had its high points too."

"I'm glad."

"How was your day?"

Sheila lifted a brow. "Weren't you listening at dinner?"

"Yes," he replied. "But you didn't say what you and Jo talked about."

"Ah. I see." She gave him a look from under her lashes. "It was just girl stuff. You know."

Straker eyed her sternly. "Damn it, Sheila! What did she say to you?"

She gave a gurgle of laughter. "She said that you weren't in love with her."

He sighed. "She's right. I wasn't."

"Good."

He brooded for a moment, then looked over at her. "Is it okay if I found her intriguing?"

Sheila hugged him, chuckling. "Oh, yeah. I think I can handle intriguing."

He kissed the top of her head. "That's good." He picked up the book she had dropped on the couch. "What are you reading?"

"_Suspicion_," she answered. "It's about a woman who thinks her husband is trying to kill her off, but he isn't. It's just a misunderstanding."

He raised his brows. "Sounds interesting."

She grinned. "Yeah. It's really more about how much she loves him, and if she's willing to trust him even when all the evidence says he's guilty."

"Does she?"

"I don't know yet," she answered. "I'm not to the end. I hope she does. He's a neat guy."

He thought for a while, then said, "Sheila, do you trust me?"

"Yes," she said immediately.

He gave her a look. "I didn't even tell you for what."

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I trust you in everything, Ed. You make it easy for me to."

"I do?" He seemed surprised.

Sheila chuckled. "Yeah. It's those gorgeous eyes of yours. They're just so honest and direct. I've never been quite sure how it is that they hide your devious mind so well, but they do."

He grinned at her. "I love you."

"Yeah?" she asked, delighted.

"Yeah."

"Then come here and show me," she said.

* * *

"I'm sorry."

She looked at him. "You are?"

He grinned. "Well, no. How could I be?"

Emily ran a hand through his hair. "Then why did you say you were?"

John sighed. "Because this wasn't how I had it planned out. I was supposed to apologize first, then we were supposed to talk about it, then we were supposed to, you know."

"Make love."

"Yeah." He sighed. "Except that I got it all twisted around. And I'm sorry for that, Emily."

She grinned at him. "I'm not. I think you did it just right. It's not every day I get greeted at the door with a heart-stopping kiss from a sexy man."

He chuckled. "You're easy."

She smacked his bare arm. "So are you, my boy."

John rolled over, pinning her beneath him. "Ah, but which of us is the easiest, Emily? Shall we see?"

She giggled, but gasped as he began raining soft kisses down her throat. "John!"

Later, she said sleepily, "Okay. I concede."

His chuckle rumbled under her cheek. "Oh, I think it was a draw."

She lifted a brow at him. "How magnanimous of you."

"Always."

She kissed his cocky lips and settled back against his chest. "John?"

"Hmmm?" he asked, running an absent hand over her silky back.

"Do I get my apology now?"

He sighed. "Yeah. I am sorry, Emily. I know I hurt you, and I had no right to. Oh, God. You have no idea how hard this is to say. Okay. I was wrong, and you were right."

She looked up at him. "Why was that so hard, John?"

"Because I always swore I'd never say it to anyone." When she just blinked at him, he explained. "Dad always gave in to my mother. It used to make me so mad, so one time I asked him why he did it. He just said that I would understand when I got older."

"And did you?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "It was because he wanted some peace in the house. At any cost." His mouth tightened for a moment. "But to me, it was too high a price to pay. She was wrong, Emily. And he let her have her own way anyway."

"So you told yourself that it wasn't going to happen to you."

"Actually," he said slowly. "It was more than that. I've always been afraid that I'm too much like her. That I have to have my own way in everything. I guess I didn't want to think of getting married someday, because I didn't want to hurt some wonderful girl the same way that my mother hurt my dad."

"Do you still think that way, John?" she asked softly.

He met her eyes, his own full of uncertainty. "I'm not sure. I want to marry you, Emily. I love you so much. More than I would have believed possible a few months ago. But you have to promise me one thing. You have to promise not to let me hurt you."

Emily ran a finger down his cheek. "I can't do that, John. There are no guarantees. Love isn't that cut and dried. When you love someone, there's always the possibility that they'll hurt you sooner or later. But when you care enough, you get past that. And go on."

"But what if I make you cry?"

"You already have," she said dryly.

He swallowed. "I'm so sorry."

She smiled at him. "It's okay. I got over it. Look, John. You were mad at your dad, right? And you said some things that hurt him. Right?"

"Yeah."

Emily bit her lip to keep from grinning at his morose tone of voice. He needed to understand. "Did he forgive you?"

"I think so."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yeah."

"Did you forgive him?"

"Yeah." He gave a deep sigh. "So, what you're saying is that misunderstandings are inevitable. But we can still love each other."

"Close enough," she said. "You need to consider other marriages than the one between your mother and your dad. Do you think Sheila ever gets mad at your dad?"

He chuckled, remembering their conversation on Moonbase. "Oh, yeah."

"Do they still love each other? Forgive each other? Go on making a life together?"

"Yeah." He laid a hand against her face. "So, you're saying that we could be happy, even if I screw up?"

"Yeah," she said with a grin. "Or if I do." She looked at him with a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. "I've been told that I'm a bit opinionated."

"Really?" he said, having trouble keeping a straight face.

She smacked his arm. "I hit too."

He rubbed his arm. "I noticed. Do you throw things?"

"No. Why? Do you want me to?"

"No way! I was just wondering."

"Hmmm."

He suddenly got up from her small bed and knelt on the floor. "I don't have a ring for you, Emily. But we can get one tomorrow." He took her hand in his and said, "Will you marry me?"

She looked at him, all gorgeous six foot of naked male, kneeling on her floor and gazing at her with such love and worry in his big blue eyes, and said, "Yes."

* * *

"I balked."

Sheila opened her eyes and considered that comment. "Did you?"

He sighed. "Yes. I couldn't give the order to destroy the alien dome."

She lifted her head off his chest and looked at him. "Why?"

"Because I was afraid that Max was down there. And I couldn't do it, Sheila."

"And you think that's pretty horrible, don't you?"

"Isn't it?" he asked. "Everyone saw it. There was no way to keep them from knowing."

"Do you think they lost respect for you as their leader because you hesitated, Ed?"

"I didn't ask."

"But you think it, don't you?"

He met her eyes reluctantly. "Yes."

She shook her head. "You're wrong."

"Oh, well. That certainly eases my mind."

"Don't be sarcastic."

"What do you want me to be, Sheila? I'm telling you that I blew it! Badly. Alec was willing to cover for me, but I couldn't let him. It had to be me. I was in charge. Only I don't think I could have done it even then."

"And you want me to forgive you? Is that it? For being fallible?" She gave him a stern look. "Forget it!"

"Sheila!" He was honestly shocked.

"Listen, Ed. Did your men refuse to follow the rest of your orders after they witnessed your inability to give that order? Did they mutiny?"

"No, of course not."

"What about the time you panicked when I was involved in that UFO incident? Did the staff at HQ find it impossible to follow you after that?"

"No," he said, frowning. "What are you trying to say?"

She sighed. "It wasn't a failure on your part to hesitate when someone you cared about was at stake. It was a victory."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" she asked, her brow raised. "Consider this. What is your greatest fear, Ed?"

"Losing you," he said immediately.

Sheila smiled. "Okay. I'll buy that. But besides that one."

He frowned, thinking about it. After a moment, he started to say something, but stopped before he spoke.

"Say it, Ed," she coaxed. "Say it out loud."

"Why?" he asked softly. "If you know what it is, why should I have to?"

"Because you need to hear yourself say it. Trust me on this."

He gazed into her eyes for a long moment, then said slowly, "I'm afraid of becoming like them."

She nodded. "Okay. When you thought I was dead, it became a constant worry, didn't it? That you were losing your humanity?"

"Yes."

"But you never did, Ed. You never lost it. Because when John's life was at stake, you couldn't make the decision to send the transport to Ireland. Alec did it for you. And you hated yourself for that, didn't you? For being weak?"

"Yes."

"Was it weak to order me away from the UFO site, Ed? Did you disgust the staff at HQ with that display of panic?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I do," she said. "I talked with several operatives that next morning. It was amazing. Even the ones who never have a nice word to say about you wanted to make sure that you were all right."

"I humiliated myself."

"By being human, Ed?"

He frowned.

"By showing everyone that you cared? Don't you have any idea what you did that day? You showed them that someone mattered to you. More than the rules. More than rank. Or anything else. And that fallibility gave them hope, Ed."

"Hope?"

"Yes. That someday, if it was them out there, that you would care enough to hesitate again. For their sake."

He was shaking his head. "But I should have been able to handle it, Sheila. I should have been in control. Calm."

"Callous? Like a Thoelian, Ed?"

"No!" He looked at her in shock, then frowned as he thought about it.

"You can't have it both ways, honey," she said softly. "You can't be both infallible and human at the same time. Humanity demands that you care. And if you lose that, who gives a damn if you're infallible? You would have become the enemy. Cold. Inhuman. Uncaring."

"But the whole world depends on me, Sheila. To make the right choice. To do what it takes to keep them safe. How can I do that if I hesitate? If I panic or find it impossible to give an order?"

"You do what you've always done, Ed. You improvise. But you don't give up your humanity. For anything. It's what has made you the incredible commander that you are. And it's what will keep your people following your orders long after you retire. You're a reminder to them, Ed. You remind them why we're fighting this war. Because it's better to be fallible and human than infallible and empty."

He met her eyes, searching them for any wavering. Finally, he sighed and said, "Then it's okay?"

She smiled and kissed him. "Yeah. It's okay."

* * *

He caught his wife and Alec talking in whispers the next day, but didn't realize what they were up to until later. He had just gotten off the video link with Paul when Alec and John came into his office. Moonbase 2's outer bay doors were malfunctioning and had to be completely rewired. But even with the headaches and the delays, Foster felt that they would be operational much sooner than originally expected. Straker was pleased. Especially since Peter had said pretty much the same thing when he'd returned.

"Well, Alec," the commander said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied expression. "It looks like we'll be sending more interceptors up there soon."

"Good. Listen, Ed. John had some ideas about that new satellite system."

"Oh?"

John brought a sheaf of papers over to the desk. "Well, Dad. I've been checking out how they plan to get them into orbit and trying to remember how we did it in my universe. And if I remember right, we ran into some trouble with payload and weight differentials. We solved the problem this way." And he showed his father the pages of schematics he had altered.

While they were discussing, Sheila and Emily entered and found a seat at the conference table. Alec strolled over to check out Emily's diamond ring, gave a cheeky wink, then returned to the doorway. Pretty soon Virginia and Peter walked in, despite the fact that this wasn't their shift. When Straker looked up from the papers a few minutes later, he found his office crowded with people. He lifted a brow at his friend, who stood in the office doorway wearing a grin. "What is it, Alec?" he asked, not sure whether he really wanted to know what his friend was up to.

Col. Freeman came over to the desk and spoke into the intercom. "Now, Ayshea."

A moment later, Ayshea entered the office carrying a small trophy, which she presented to the commander, saying, "On behalf of the entire HQ staff, sir."

He thanked her, while those both in and outside the office clapped. Straker glanced over at his wife in time to see her grinning at Alec. Then he looked at the trophy. And laughed. It read: _Commander of the Year_.


End file.
